Reaper's Dark Kiss (14 page)

“Don’t worry, Sky. I’d die before I let Vandar get his hands on you.”

Settling into the nest of Julian’s arms, Sky said, “I’m not worried.”

Julian ran his hands up over her breasts, letting his fingers linger around her nipples. “You sure?”

Sky leaned back into him, arching her back slightly, pressing into his hands on her breasts. “What if I’m not?”

Julian kissed her neck, feeling her nipples become hard against his probing fingers. “Then I have to do a special Shadow World test,” he said into her ear.

“What’s the test?” Sky asked, her voice breathy and low.

Julian paused long enough to pull her shirt from her jeans, then slid his hands up her body and cupped her warm, round breasts. Her hard nipples pressed into his rough palms. He saw her bite her lips. She tried to hold back a whimper of pleasure, but he heard it escape. “If you come, you’re not worried.” He unbuttoned her jeans, unzipped them, and slid a finger between her legs. It was a tight fit. The seam of her jeans pressed his finger against her nub. His other hand was still cupping her breast. He gently rolled her nipple slowly back and forth. “Ready?”

“Julian.” Sky gasped and spread her legs just a little wider. “People can see.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, rubbing his lips against the soft skin of her neck. “They see a warrior with the woman he wants for his mate.” He moved his finger between her legs, making a deliberate friction. “Or don’t you think we’re showing them enough?”

She threw her head back. Her hair fell into her face as she cried out softly. She was incredibly wet, and all Julian wanted was to draw Sky from the edge, lay her back, and take her.

“What?” he said. “Didn’t catch that. We should show them more?”

Sky grabbed his legs, her fingers digging into him as Julian kept up a steady rhythm between her spread thighs. She squirmed, bucking her hips forward, grinding against his finger. He ran his rough palm over her nipples, first one then the other. “Feels like you’re real close to passing the test,” he said, pressing his finger harder against her nub.

“Julian.” Sky’s breath was coming harder, faster. “I can’t…not like this.”

“You don’t have to,” Julian said, rubbing harder, keeping up a relentless rhythm. “It’s just a test.”

Trembling, Sky bucked hard, a cry of release coming from her lips as her body tensed for a long moment. She fell against him, and Julian relented, wrapping his arms around her. Sitting as they were, his cock pressed against her ass, Sky’s scent of desire surrounding him, Julian was nearly a slave to his instincts. His dream of chasing down Sky came back in a rush. This wasn’t enough. He wanted Sky, wanted to be inside her, taking her, marking her. But he couldn’t. And Vandar was the reason Julian couldn’t claim what was rightfully his. For that alone, Vandar should die.

Chapter Nineteen

Beyond the UV-filtered windows, Washington Square Park bristled with newlywed tourists, street artists, students, and poorly disguised lawmen. A round fountain gushed skyward, surrounded by tiered stone steps, a gathering place for mortals.

Vandar wanted very badly to rampage among them and take the blood his beast was crying out for. He shook himself free of his thoughts and considered the parchment in his hand. “There’s no mistake? It’s final?”

Seated behind him in a high-backed leather chair, Kraeyl was as sleek as a well-fed rattlesnake. “What you hold is a binder, signed by Marek,” he said. “At noon tomorrow, he will execute the contract, and the female SkyLynne Jordan is yours.”

Even when a man was as desperate as Julian was, what could be done in less than two days? “Is there any hope of relief? A stay?”

“None worth discussing,” Kraeyl said.

As counselor, every action Kraeyl took, every word he spoke was carefully calculated to protect the Dominion. Knowing this, Vandar said quietly, “You try my patience, old friend.”

“My lord,” Kraeyl said, “the reaper’s last hope is so futile as to be hardly worth mentioning.”

“Then let us share a moment of futility,” Vandar said. “It is so unlike the rest of my life. I may enjoy the contrast.”

“Legends, Vandar,” Kraeyl said, obviously frustrated. “As your counselor I can tell you that scrolls reveal no intercession from Oracle that has ever changed the covenants of a negotiated contract.”

“Then I ask you to speak as my friend,” Vandar said.

Kraeyl flashed Vandar a look of pained annoyance. He hated relying on emotion, but he was too loyal to refuse. “It has been written”—and here he gave Vandar an almost severe look of warning—“but in nothing reliable, mind you, that in cases of so-called true love, Oracle’s advice may have an unexpected impact.”

Vandar nearly laughed. “Are you telling me, Kraeyl, that love conquers all if Oracle is involved?”

“Certainly not,” Kraeyl said in a dry voice. “I am saying there are unconfirmed tales of rare instances where an intercession was sought and subsequent actions taken upon Oracle’s advice led to unanticipated outcomes.”

“The binder is signed,” Vandar said. “If I take the female now, what do I risk?”

“The suspension of the contract, followed by a reconvening of the council to decide which part of the territory granted will be revoked as punishment.” Kraeyl paused before he added, “As things stand now, the council has disregarded the dead mortals in the park. However, if there is an infraction, the killings may be reconsidered.”

“How did you get them to, as you put it, ‘disregard’ the killings?”

“I forced them to choose,” Kraeyl said. “I offered the prospect of full-scale war between the Dominion and the Creed or Marek’s signature to bind a contract for a few acres of territory, much of it already in Dominion hands.” A rare smile came to his face. “Marek was furious when they capitulated.”

A knock on the door startled Vandar, but Kraeyl called out “Enter!” as though he’d been expecting someone.

The girl vampire came in. What was her name? Meggie? No. Margaret. Maggie. She closed the door and stood against it, tense and frightened. Her jeans, faded to a hint of blue, sat low on her rounded hips. Her purple T-shirt stopped just past her small breasts, leaving her smooth belly naked. A green jewel glinted in her navel. “You sent for me, sir?” she asked, her eyes on the carpet at Vandar’s feet. “I haven’t been anywhere near Creed territory,” she hurried to add.

Vandar gave his counselor a knowing look before he said, “I’m sure you haven’t.” He extended a hand toward the chair nearest him. “Please. Be at ease.”

She scurried past Vandar and sat down gingerly, as if the chair might bite.

Rising, Kraeyl said, “Should you need me, my lord, I await your pleasure.” He gave a graceful bow and went out.

“Come to me, Maggie.”

She came to stand before Vandar, looking up at him with desire and fear and awe. The mix added a pleasantly sensual scent to the air. He ran his hands along her bare arms. She stiffened but didn’t flinch.

“Whatever you want, sir. I’ll be yours. Or…” She swallowed. “I mean—I know I already am. All the vampires are. I just—” Her faltering voice came to a halt.

She was barefoot. Each toenail was polished in a different shade of glittering red. Painted on each nail were tiny letters in a script Vandar didn’t recognize. It must have taken hours to get such detail at so small a size. He yielded to the unaccustomed desire to ease her fear. He indicated her bare feet. “Your art calls to you in whatever you do. How long did it take to do that?”

She wiggled her pale white toes and said, “Not long, sir. A couple hours.”

“I’m told you draw in ink on younglings.” Vandar traced his fingertips over the outlines of her bar bell nipple piercings. “Perhaps one day you will give me the pleasure of drawing on my skin while you are naked.”

Maggie gave a soft laugh, shivering at his touch, and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

So beautiful. So eager to please. Perhaps this small distraction would soothe the relentless hunger driving Vandar to rage through the Sun World.

Chapter Twenty

“Maybe if you called ahead,” Sky said, trying to see over Julian’s shoulder, “you wouldn’t have to break and enter.”

“He doesn’t answer his phone,” Julian muttered, not taking his eyes off the lock where he was twisting two thin metal rods back and forth.

“Then why break in?”

“Shadow World alarm,” Julian said. “He’ll know someone’s in his place. He’ll be here.”

After they left the gardens, Julian had convinced Sky to sleep. Now they were here, in a narrow alley behind a squat building on the Upper West Side, a few blocks from Central Park.

“You’re sure he knows where Oracle is?”

“Viper could find a tombstone chip in a rock pile,” Julian said.

A figure plummeted past the street light in the alley. A backlit man landed on his feet with impossible grace and headed for them. In an instant, Julian swept Sky behind him and turned on the intruder. He didn’t have his knives out, so probably no one would die.

The man had to be a Shade, because he’d definitely flown down from a rooftop. He stopped a few steps away and glared at Julian from eyes that looked black in the streetlight’s faint glow. He had a blond brush cut, a diamond stud in his left ear. His faded leather jacket hung over a bare muscled chest. His hard-packed belly tapered to black faded jeans snugged tight over scuffed biker boots. He was every bit the fighter looking for a reason. This had to be Viper.

“You’re lucky you didn’t kick my door in again,” Viper said. “And if you broke my lock, I’m billing you.” He unlocked his door and went inside. Julian motioned Sky to go in, then followed.

Inside was a bare room with brick walls. No furniture. No windows. A square in the ceiling opened on darkness. Viper glanced back at Julian, then rose like a rocket taking off.

“Going up,” Julian said and took hold of Sky from behind.

When he landed them near the edge, candles were still coming to life, lighting a room that must have run the length of the building.

Wooden tables, stained and scratched, were scattered indifferently among a half dozen overstuffed chairs. A black couch, embossed with hundreds of tiny gold wings, was pushed up against one wall. Dented metal barstools stood between chairs or beside tables. Some stood solitary, apart from anything. There was no kitchen, no bathroom, no bedroom. Viper’s place had the feel of an aboveground bomb shelter…or a mausoleum.

The actual windows must have been bricked over. But there were window-size stained-glass hangings, lit from behind, that showed angels falling from purple clouds. They were brandishing swords with hilts that could have been ivory. The ones closest to the ground were on fire, heads thrown back, mouths open in agonized screams. They made Sky think of the mosaic she’d seen in the old subway station with Julian.

“The reporter prowling your place is Sky,” Julian said.

“You talk to the press now?”

“She lets me whisper in her ear.”

Sky turned as Viper sank into a chair so deeply cushioned, he got a couple inches shorter. She gave Julian a look. He bowed his head but couldn’t stop a quick smile.

“I heard Marek signed the binder.” Viper shook his head. “That’s not right. Shouldn’t be giving the Dominion anything.”

“Are you the one dumping the bodies?” Julian asked him.

On their way here, Julian had given Sky a crash course in drainers. They eventually sank into a kind of insanity. But that took eight or nine decades. From what Julian could tell, Vandar had only been infected about a year. And he’d only been draining a few weeks. It was too soon for him to be careless with bodies and leave them behind in the Sun World. Someone else had to be doing that. About Viper he’d said only one thing. Julian’s voice rang in her mind with perfect clarity:
“He’s a kill waiting to happen.”

“Vandar’s too far gone to stop,” Viper said.

“Looks like he’s only been infected maybe a year.”

“What difference does it make?” Viper ran a hand over his brush cut. “He can’t stop.”

“Why not tell Marek?”

“Requires a personal audience to report a capital offense. Let me see.” He slouched down low, stretched out his long legs. His voice was hoarse, like a man getting over a sore throat. “I request an audience with a king who calls me a reckless traitor and just about branded me for being a rogue.” He moved his shoulders, as if remembering an old wound. “I go to a sun hotel.”

“They’re neutral ground,” Julian said.

Viper gave him a look that told Julian not to be an idiot. “You know I can’t rub his face in what I do. Two minutes after I’m on neutral ground, I’m in platinum chains, waiting on a fast trip to exile in the Arctic.”

“Then why not come to me?” Julian said.

“I never saw it happen,” Viper said, his voice calm, unbothered by Julian’s irritation. “He’s careful. He’s fast. I was always too late. All I could do was leave the bodies out and hope the council did something. I didn’t even leave all of them. When you were in the park, I held off. I didn’t want you witnessing me near a drained body, even if it wasn’t me doing it.”

“Why not?” Sky asked. “Doesn’t it take eyewitness proof?”

“He’d have to tell the council,” Viper said. “I’m not a favorite with them.”

“You think I would have asked for pictures, V? I would have listened.” Julian stood a little straighter, as if to signal the small talk was over. “I have to find Oracle,” he said. “You’re the best tracker I know.” He told Viper about Seeker Dagon and intercession.

One second Viper was in the overstuffed chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The next, he was on his feet, prowling the gloom. The way he moved spooked Sky. A troubling image came to her. If Death ever pushed back his black hood, the face revealed would be Viper’s. She shivered.

An empty stool slid across the room and came to rest beside Julian. He invited Sky to his side with a tilt of his head, holding his hand out to her. When she sat on the stool, Julian slid behind her and kissed the side of her neck.

Viper stopped in front of a stained-glass hanging. “Did he tell you about this, yet?”

Not sure what this had to do with finding Oracle, Sky said, “They look like they’re falling.”